


veritatem cognoscere

by sleep_dep



Series: The Overworld Needs A Break [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Platonic Relationships, Sleepyboisinc - Freeform, TommyInnit Has Wings, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, you call these tags i call it warning of my bad writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28856973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep_dep/pseuds/sleep_dep
Summary: Tommy was sworn to secrecy about Wilbur's real past. He hates being kept from secrets, which led to him trying to find out what it is.Curiosity kills the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.AKA: how Wilbur and Tommy find out they're brothers, in a way.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Wilbur Soot, Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: The Overworld Needs A Break [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016959
Comments: 6
Kudos: 227





	veritatem cognoscere

**Author's Note:**

> I did not speed run 12 pages of this fic in my Google Docs, no I didn't.  
> This has been sitting in there for a few weeks after a comment on To Rise or To Be Torn Apart simply because I just couldn't think of a way to turn it into an actual story.  
> But I think it's good now, I HOPE IT IS-
> 
> Also, I have to personally thank my friend Loomy for helping me out or I'd be dead on the floor right now. 
> 
> Guide (yawn):  
> Technoblade - God of War (+ Determination)  
> Tommy - God of Secrets  
> Wilbur - God of the Dead  
> Philza - God of the Skies
> 
> George - God of Evolution and Change  
> Ranboo - God of Crossroads (+Boundaries)

Ranboo purses his lips as he waits outside the throne room. He fiddles with the hem of his blazer.

When he hears the pained gasp, the echoing shivers that bounce off the walls, he straightens himself. He has a job, he has to do it well. In the end, it'll work out. 

When he faces the pained look so clearly painted on the god's face, his mind burns and heart aches. His hands twitch by his side, wishing he could summon Evolution and beg for a change. 

"Ascend the throne, Wilbur." 

He chokes out the words he wishes he shouldn't have to say. The years of posing and pretending as Wilbur's brother has etched into his soul. He knows for sure the man doesn't deserve the life he lived, neither does he deserve the life he'll have to live. Wilbur deserves happiness and the ordinary. 

Wilbur stands shakily on his feet and Ranboo doesn't move an inch. He stands shock still, a calm look masking his sadness. 

"What? Throne?" Wilbur forces out, his nails digging into his arm as he stumbles towards him. "Who are you? Why do you sound like him?" 

Ranboo doesn't speak a word as he stares at the dread in the god's eyes. "Why do you sound like my brother? Please." 

He sighs as he shuts his eyes, wishing for silence. This was expected. He knew he would have to face the fact that he would have to listen to the desperation and pain in the god's voice.

Ranboo lets a subtle frown settle on his face as he opens his eyes to face Wilbur.

"I'm sorry, Wilbur. I don't remember." 

+

Multiple times, he nearly revealed the truth over the decade he's been serving Wilbur. 

Philza, George and him swore a silent oath to shut their mouths about the truth. It'd break Wilbur's heart to know that his actual brother has been deceased for years, that Ranboo only took his brother's place to fulfill his duty. 

While he did do what he did, Ranboo cared for the young god like an actual brother. They had a rocky start. It was awkward for a year or so, but he subtly nudged Wilbur into the direction he was supposed to take. 

Wilbur had a difficult time settling. Ranboo had to run things for a few months, but soon Wilbur grew accustomed to his position. The Underworld finally experienced peace instead of tortured wails that plagued the residents for years before Wilbur even ascended. 

His heart settled and he accepted that he would have to hide the truth for a long time. Wilbur deserves to know, he really does.

George pulls him aside one day as he was travelling between the dimensions, helping trapped souls between the doors of the living and the dead. 

When George tells him about a young god roaming around in a small town, one who could lock anyone's secrets to the deepest depths of the void, his shoulders feel lighter but his heart feels heavier. 

He's glad his mask and the strip of cloth he wears over his eyes (majority of the time) hides the shame that pools in his eyes. And glad that nobody is able to read how he really feels. 

Another decade passes and he finally meets Tommy. They let the kid fly around, zooming between the dimensions as long as he tells any one of the older gods. Despite being new (well, he wouldn't say new) to godhood, Tommy does his duties quite well. 

When Wilbur brings Tommy to the Underworld, Ranboo gifts him netherite. The kid explodes into excitement, holding onto the ingot and passing it between his hands, admiring the sleekness and dark gleam. 

He looks at the bright smile on Wilbur's face, lacking the exhaustion that usually came with it, he's happy. He’s happy that Wilbur has another companion to spend time with. 

+

Tommy wishes he was an ordinary human kid sometimes. Although, the thought never lasts long when he's constantly reminded how cool being a god is. 

He can  _ fly _ . 

He could do magic squiggles and bright blobs with his hands to entertain himself with when he's bored. He can mash secrets into any shape and size and watch it burst into glowing dust. Admire how each of the particles light up the room and the secrets, good or bad, fade in and out to form a comforting melody. 

When Phil (old man, he sometimes chants out of boredom) summons him to the throne room out of the blue, he's reminded that being a god also comes with two things he hates: burden and responsibilities. 

Philza’s body language is tense, a frown etched onto his face. Tommy tucks his wings while turning to face George, who stood off to the side. He raises an eyebrow, scratching his wrist. “Someone tell me what’s going on?”

Tommy hears a cough behind him and the footsteps that echoes throughout the room. 

“Ranboo, please do explain to Tommy why he’s here tonight,” Philza says. 

Tommy’s wings flit around. The room feels smaller and the carvings of multiple mythical beasts resting on the pillars seem to come to life and sneer at him. He faces the heterochromatic eyes while wringing his hands. “Listen, I haven’t done any–"

Ranboo holds up a hand, silencing him instantly. “This isn’t any of your fault. We just need you to swear us to secrecy about something related to Wilbur,” Ranboo sighs. 

Slowly, he starts explaining everything to Tommy. How Wilbur had a brother that passed away when he was young. How Ranboo took his brother’s place and tweaked his family’s memories. And finally how he and Wilbur died when the previous God of the Dead decided to pass on his throne to Wilbur (his chosen successor).

Tommy, for once, listens without interrupting. His hands fall to his side, picking at a loose thread of his clothes. When Ranboo finishes his story, he stays dead silent before asking. “Doesn’t Wilbur deserve to know that you were his brother?” 

Ranboo doesn’t speak a word, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

George steps in and places a hand on his back. Tommy looks up at the god, who gives him a kind expression (despite George occasionally hating his guts). “Ranboo isn’t his biological brother,” he says. Tommy feels the words weigh down on him. He doesn’t know why and he looks to George for answers. “But he does think of Wilbur like one. With this weighing him down, it’s… tough. So, all we ask from you is to lock it in within us and you included. Please.”

Tommy’s head feels fuzzy. His gut tugs at his mind, telling him that there’s more to it. That they were hiding something from him. He turns to Philza, pleading silently to tell him what they were hiding but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, Philza gives him a solemn nod and extends his hand out. George does the same. 

He turns to Ranboo, hesitantly reaching his hand out. Ranboo places his hand in his. “How long do you want to keep it?” Tommy asks quietly as a dim gold glow lights at his fingertips. Ranboo thinks as the glow starts to drip into a pattern tattooed on his wrist. “A century.”

Tommy looks up from his work. He sighs and locks it. The patterns on their wrists disappear as if it wasn’t there at all. Tommy wipes the excess liquid gold on his robes, silently stepping away from the group. “If you break it, you know what happens.” 

George nods. Slowly, they all take their leave until Tommy is left with Philza, who gives him a comforting smile. 

He doesn’t return it. “I feel like all of you are hiding something bigger from me,” he states. 

Philza sighs, rubbing the spot where the pattern last was. “And you deserve to know, but after what you had to do, I don’t think today is the day I should tell you and I shouldn’t. I’ll leave this to George as this is in all technicalities, his domain.”

“What does this have to do with Evolution and Change?” Tommy spits. 

Philza doesn’t answer his question. “I’m sure he's roaming there somewhere. You can get to know him if you wish.”

Tommy huffs and leaves the throne room. As soon as he steps out the door, he dives off the edge, his wings spreading to support him. 

He doesn’t want to go anywhere near divine. 

+

"Wilbur, are the gates still open?" He asks, feigning disinterest as he walks next to the king who silently communicates with his subjects. 

Wilbur turns to look at him. The shadow lingering behind him stops their whispering, their purple eyes turning to face him too. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Tommy." 

Tommy continues to stare ahead. Looking at the weird shadow figures always make them agitated. "The one where all the souls go. Like, innocent ones." 

Wilbur hums. The whispers start up once more before fading away, letting silence linger between them for a moment. "It's open. Why'd you ask?" 

Tommy shrugs, his wings flit around and he hides it by pretending to stretch. He yawns. "I just felt like visiting it." 

Wilbur gives him a look and he rebuts with a defensive 'what'. The king shrugs, turning to face the dark hallway leading to the throne room. "You can go. Just don't get tempted by them requesting you to spend all your time there. Getting you away from angry souls would be a pain." 

He salutes Wilbur (sarcastically) and takes off in the direction of the gate room that houses the many portals to different parts of the Underworld. He thought about this for a few months after the sealing, whether or not he wanted to look for the soul of Wilbur's deceased brother and he decided: it wouldn't hurt to have a chat (with a baby, it's weird). 

Tommy went through the archives possessing the many souls that have stayed in the Underworld. Majority of them stay until they're content to move on. Some of them don't even leave. He rifled through the scripts that hold the profiles of the souls, detailing the lives they had and could possibly have if they weren't here. 

It took a while, but he did find the profile of Wilbur's deceased brother. 

It was weird. There were two pictures. One of them was blurred out. Tommy has been to the archives before just to mess around and read out of curiosity. He knows at this point: when a picture is blurred, it means they were unable to document their life at all. He doesn't know how or why that happens though. 

It's a rare case, but it happens. He knows it does. He's flipped through enough scripts (it happened 2 times throughout Wilbur's reign, he didn't bother to check the previous reign though). 

Wilbur never told him about any of them. Tommy thinks he might not even be aware of it happening. What a dumbass. 

Tommy shivers when he walks through the portal, as if ice cold water has been dumped on him. His wings flit around exasperatedly and he pats it down while walking through the expanse of grey. 

The ground crunches under his feet, the air humid. He sees small flecks of dust float through the air and the silence makes his ears ring. 

"I did not expect it to be this depressing," Tommy mutters under his breath, walking around aimlessly. 

The whispers crawl across his skin. They beg for him to stay, mixed with childish laughter and happy giggles. It creeped him out. 

"Hello? Kid, I wanna talk!" He yelled, finally coming to a stop. Tommy never visits. He never had the intention to (he's basically winging it). 

He gasps in surprise when he hears a wispy 'hello' from his side. Taking a few steps back, he faces a child, definitely no older than 10, looking at him with a snarky frown on his face. 

His grey features seem familiar, but Tommy shakes that thought away. It's probably the picture. 

"Uh… hello… Wilbur's brother," he forces out. Now that he thinks about it, he never thought of what to say to him, at all. "How are you?" 

(Mentally, he facepalms).

He hears an echo-ey giggle that surrounds him, as if the child is running around. "I'm alright. I miss Wilbur, he never visits." 

Tommy chuckles nervously, sitting cross-legged on the ground. "Yeah, yeah, he's a prick. Say, do you know how souls work here? This is my first time." 

A hum reverberates throughout the area. The apparition of Wilbur's brother pops up beside him again and Tommy stifles his surprised yell. 

"You can leave any time. Some of us have led multiple lives. Like me!" The child giggles excitedly, pointing at himself. "Not for long though. I died before I even made it to 3 years old in my first life. Then I slipped down here after a few years of reincarnation in my second life because I wasn't human." 

Tommy nods slowly, scratching his neck. This is new information to process, he sighs inwardly. "Then what were you?" 

The child hums, sitting in front of Tommy. He squints his eyes, staring at the ground while scratching his arm. Finally, he stares at Tommy, eyes twinkling. "I was actually a god!" The child then frowns. "Not really though. Immortals don't have souls, even if they did, they slip away and come back here." 

Tommy's eyebrows scrunch in confusion as he tries to understand. "So… you're saying that in your second life… you were actually a god. But since immortals aren't supposed to have souls, something took course and you came back here." 

The child nods his head. "You're nearly there. It's difficult to explain. I was reborn as a god, but I didn't realize I was one, until slowly I did. That's when I started to slip away." 

Tommy's head feels fuzzy trying to wrap his head around the idea. Everything is so weird. He hates it sometimes.

"So, the god used to have a soul, you, and now they don't. Now... they're like us who's blood or being or whatever–" he gestures dismissively, "– is what we represent. Like me, secrets. My blood, and flesh… uh… being, is basically secrets but personified." 

The child claps his hands while nodding his head. Tommy smiles. When Philza and Techno were trying to teach him about immortals in general, he never particularly listened (until Techno knocked it in him but, shush). 

Tommy yawns while leaning against his palm. "Do you have a name? Or do souls not retain much memories?" 

The child mimics his action, yawning while tugging at the cloth wrapped loosely around his neck. "Can't remember our names, but we do remember memories! 'Cept that our names in any memories will be blurred? We just don't remember them, so it's just a blank." 

Tommy frowns. That's sad. "Do you want a name? It'll be easier for the both of us. I also wanna hear of those memories you have. Might be interesting." 

The child brightens and Tommy smiles. "Yes, I'd like one." He then wrings his hands, his head drops. "I don't have many memories though. I can barely remember anything from my second life because… immortal." 

Tommy hums. So, that's why the pages were blank when he opened up the profile of Wilbur's brother's second life. Immortals don't have their lives documented in any worlds. They leave their marks, play around with humans for a while, but their entire lives are never truly documented like it is in the archives. 

"Tell me anyways," Tommy says, thinking. "Does Clementine sound alright?" 

Clementine nods happily. He starts talking about how he first saw Wilbur, barely reaching the edge of his crib as he stared at him, eyes wide. 

It was rather soothing, listening to Clementine talk about the man he thinks as an older brother. He asked Ranboo to tell him about a few memories he has with Wilbur but he simply shook his head and left the room or area, pretending to be busy. He would also ask Techno, and he would tell, but he always kept it brief and short. 

By the time they parted ways, Tommy was tired but happy. Clementine was a nice kid. 

He passed through the portal after waving goodbye to him and walked right into Wilbur with an 'oomf'. 

"Took you long enough. You were gone for a while," Wilbur says, steadying him while patting the dust off his shoulder. 

Tommy crosses his arms, staring at the man while raising an eyebrow. "I'm fine," he says. 

They leave the room and start walking through the corridors once more, Tommy talking excitedly about Clementine. He left out a few details he can't say, but Wilbur doesn't seem too suspicious. 

"At least you have someone as childish as you now, Tommy," Wilbur says. He messes with Tommy's hair, smiling. Tommy grumbles while swatting his hand away. "Be careful though. I already told you, don't let the whispers trap you there. You may be a god, but they're tempting." 

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, dickhead," he mumbles, smiling. 

+

Wilbur takes a seat in his throne in the palace. For once, he decided to visit Philza after years of being cooped up in his own palace, working non-stop, taking care of the souls and his subjects. He scans the grand room, making sure no one else is there before relaxing his posture and slumping in his seat. 

“Rough day, Wilbur?” Philza asks while chuckling, facing the younger god. 

Wilbur groans, shoving his face into his hands. He moves his legs and lets them dangle over the arm of his throne, shaking his head. He’s acting like a child but does it really matter? Nobody else is here. His subjects are back in the Underworld. No human was in sight. And finally, his eyes land on Phil. “Gods, Phil.”

Phil reaches his hands out and ruffles the king’s hair, ignoring the crown (it’s more of an intricate headpiece, really) nestled into the side of his hair. The dark twisting metal glints under the dull glow of the throne room. The emeralds intertwined with the crown shines dully. 

“It’s been years, Wilbur,” Philza sighs, smiling. “Catch an old man up. Tommy isn’t doing a great job these few days.”

Wilbur drapes himself over the throne, a finger messing with a strand of hair. “Tommy keeps visiting the souls. I’m a little worried, but he comes back to do his duties and responsibilities as a god, so-” WIlbur shrugs. “Ranboo is doing quite well. He lost his book yesterday again, but he found it this morning so it’s all good.”

Wilbur hums for a moment, trying to remember any other small details about the Underworld he can tell Phil. He casts his eyes downwards, staring at the floor. His own eyes stare back at him and he immediately glances away, deciding to focus on Phil’s throne instead, ignoring the fuzzy thoughts that invade his mind. 

His finger twitches and he ignores the urge to scratch his neck. “Tommy keeps messing with Bad and making the poor guy mad, but I can’t excuse my own teasing either. Speaking of Tommy, has he visited you these past few months? Or days? Or Techno, maybe. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Phil has a faraway look in his eyes as he looks at the entrance of the throne room that leads to a steep drop down to the void. The clouds gather together, blocking the glare of the sun. “No. I haven’t heard from any of them. Tommy hasn’t chatted with me in 3 weeks and Techno has been gone for months. He’s off to watch the wars happening in China. Really, it’s not particularly his business, but he’s bored.”

“He’s old,” Wilbur drones. “I remember when he’s really obsessed with this one general. The general has been deceased for years though.” 

Wilbur sits up and stretches, yawning. “Now, that’s weird behaviour from Tommy though. He talks with you often. Did he mention why he cut off?” 

Philza shakes his head and Wilbur frowns at his response. He leans against his arm while staring at the same direction Phil was staring in. Tommy rarely ever misses a chance to talk to Phil. The kid has been visiting the souls quite often too, was he getting tempted?

“I’ll have a chat with him. That’s a little weird,” Wilbur says. 

+

Tommy says goodbye to Clementine once more while walking through the portal. The kid ran out of memories to tell days ago, but he was entertaining and Tommy liked him a lot. Clementine reminded him of himself when he was… mortal? Before he came here sounded more accurate. 

Straight to the point, a little nervous sometimes. One to skirt around uncomfortable conversations, hopping back to his excitable self to change the subject. All around, he’s still a nice kid. 

He found out new knowledge today. Souls appear to each person they know (and only they know, they would simply appear to strangers as an orb, or an animal) differently, but also as someone they would recognize. For example, Clementine appears to Tommy as a child (that Tommy is supposed to recognize, but he doesn’t so he shrugged it off). Tommy asked Clementine what he would appear to Wilbur. The kid didn’t answer and changed the subject. 

His wings flutter, trying to burn out the extra energy he has bubbling within him as he walks down the hallway. Gold swirled with the black of the walls, silver winks at him as he stares at the carvings of the Underworld beasts lined along the walls. 

When he breaks his concentration from them, he’s faced with George walking towards him, a bored look on his face. Their eyes meet and a spark of annoyance flares within Tommy, the feeling of being kept from a secret itches at him. 

“Hey, George,” Tommy says. “Rarely see you being found, I’ll be honest.”

George snorts and shakes his head. “I was looking for you. I know you’re annoyed.” 

They start walking towards no direction in particular, simply roaming the hallways of the huge castle. They remained silent for a few minutes before George started talking. Tommy reverted to his quiet self, not replying and simply listening. The same as he was when Ranboo was explaining the entire situation to him. 

“You’re telling me it’s alright to tell Wilbur if I really do think it’s the right time. But you haven’t told me what you’re hiding. I can sense secrets, George,” Tommy mumbles, his wings flitting around. He reaches behind him to pat them down. 

George glances away, the outline of his glasses shimmering and fading in and out, a nervous habit of his. His stupid glasses (who even gave it to him, he doesn’t know, but he knows it’s dear to him) would suddenly appear when it becomes too much for him. 

“It’s not really my place to say, but I can tell you: you’ll find out soon enough. Which is why I just wanted to chat.” 

\----

George holds onto his glasses as he stares at Wilbur roaming the halls, presumably looking for Tommy (who he left near the portal room). He knows what Tommy has been doing, he watches over the changes a soul would go through after all and Tommy’s new friend was quite nice. They’ve chatted before, although not much. 

“Good evening, Wilbur.” 

His words echo throughout the halls and Wilbur turns to face him. A warm smile spreads across his face as the god starts walking in his direction. “Hello, Gogy,” Wilbur says, teasingly using George’s nickname. “Have you seen Tommy? I wanted to talk to him.”

George lets his glasses disappear into a burst of pixels. “I wanted to chat for a moment.”

He watches as Wilbur’s face shifts through the expression of concern to acceptance. Wilbur nods his head and they slow their walk to a stop eventually. 

“How much do you remember before you became a god?” George asks, the spot on his wrist where the pattern was imprinted on him that day itches slightly but he ignores it. 

Wilbur’s expression darkens at the question. He glances away and George purses his lips, knowing that the question skirts into an uncomfortable topic for him. “I remember enough.” 

“Then, you knew you had a-” George is interrupted by Wilbur. “A brother, yes. I had one. He was a good kid.”

Wilbur scuffs the heel of his shoe against the ground. “George, what brought this on?”

George swallows the urge to directly tell Wilbur about the truth. He watched it play out after all, he knew exactly what happened and how, in a way, both Wilbur and Tommy were related at some point. It felt weird to hide something so intimate from both of them, but he did so anyway. 

“It’s… Something will happen related to Tommy and your brother,” George swallows. “Don’t treat anyone too harshly after it does.”

Wilbur hums while giving him a perplexed look. He walks past him, towards the direction of the portal room and George mumbles a goodbye, disappearing into a burst of pixels. He hopes it goes well and whatever Wilbur decides to do doesn’t affect the outcome. If he needs to interfere, he will (and well, he already did).

+

Tommy storms through the portal, cursing anyone and everything out. He knew he could pry the secret out from George. It was within his capabilities after all. But despite how annoying the man is, George was his friend. Dream and Sapnap were his friends too, and they wouldn’t be too happy. He wasn’t that heartless. 

Clementine appears in front of him, concern written on his face. “Tommy, are you alright? You left a few minutes ago and now you’re back?” 

He takes a seat on the hard ground, dust billowing. He rests his chin on his knee while staring at nothing in particular. “I hate secrets sometimes.”

Clementine hums and walks around him. He plays with the hem of his torn up shirt before taking a seat next to Tommy. “That sucks.”

Tommy is reminded of the time he had to deal with the secrets he had to keep everyday, before he flew here, before he figured out he was a god. It was horrible. It felt as if people kept adding weight onto his shoulders everyday and it’s still the same, but at least with Wilbur, Techno, Phil, Tubbo and everyone he cared about here, it was manageable. He was supposed to know every secret, yet here he is being left in the dark. 

Clementine gasps and Tommy looks up from his arms, turning to face where Clementine was looking. His eyes widen as Wilbur steps through the portal, a crease in his brow. He spots Tommy. Tommy watches as his gaze lands on Clementine. 

A shocked look came across his face and Tommy stands, worried. “Wilbur, what is it?” 

He starts walking towards him, his pace increasing by the second. "Wilbur, is everything okay?"

Clementine follows behind him slowly. Tommy takes note of the shocked look on both of their faces and Tommy thinks 'oh'. 

"Tommy, why are you speaking to yourself?" Wilbur asks quietly. 

Tommy slows his pace before stopping in front of Wilbur. "Myself?" He asks confused. 

"I'm speaking to a child, Wilbur. He's around eight years old to me… how could I be speaking to…" his voice fades out. 

It dawns on him. Clementine knows Wilbur. Clementine died before Wilbur was even 3 and Ranboo replaced Wilbur's memories. Wilbur doesn't know what Clementine could possibly look like because he wouldn't remember, he was too young. So, the only possible way he could appear to Wilbur is someone he recognizes,  _ him _ .

He forgot that souls have limitations, and souls are limited to appear as what or who they have been reincarnated as. It could be any age they've gone through and Clementine couldn't appear as a baby. Wilbur, he wouldn't remember. 

So, if he appeared to Wilbur as Tommy,  _ him _ . Which meant, in his second life, he slipped down here because… 

He turns to face Clementine, who wrings his hands together. "Tommy, I–"

"Tommy, why have you been visiting this place everyday," Wilbur asks. 

He feels searing hot anger rise within him. Clementine, he liked the kid, and he hid the fact that they were connected at some point. He would've been fine with it, happy even, that at some point, he was Wilbur's  _ brother _ , even in his past life. 

Yet again… Clementine was down here because of him. The kid had a shot at actually living a life but he slipped back here because of him. 

His anger slowly dwindles away the same way it rose. He turns to face Wilbur. The thought of telling him the truth (even though he knew the pain it would bring) itches at him. 

His wrist burns the more he thinks about it and he decides, that at this point, he might as well tell. Letting Wilbur wait a century wouldn't be worth it at all. 

"He's your brother," he winces as his wrist burns hotter. "Ranboo, he changed your memories, for a reason, and–" the pattern on his wrist glows brighter and Wilbur silently listens, "–Clementine, he actually died before you were even 3. Ranboo subbed in, he took your brother's place–" 

He pauses, the pattern on his wrist melting into liquid and he feels his blood burn. He coughs, wiping the gold liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth. 

Wilbur immediately gripped onto his shoulders, Clementine hovering worriedly by his side. "Tommy, enough, keep it to yourself. You clearly swore a secret, just–" 

Tommy shakes his head. The pain is getting unbearable and it'll become worse, but it's worth it. "And he spent his time by your side and– and you died, and came down here because you were chosen to be the next successor to the throne for some shit reason, I don't know–" Tommy laughs painfully. 

His fingers twitch in pain as he groans, slumping against his brother. Clementine's brows furrowed while Wilbur rubs his shoulder gently, turning to face Clementine with a kind expression. Wilbur mumbles something that Tommy can't hear at all despite being this close to him. 

Tommy's vision blurs as he tries not to scream at the way his blood feels like it's been lit on fire, burning him from inside out. 

"Godammit, Tommy, you stupid child," Wilbur mumbles, worry laced into his words. 

Tommy shivers, curling into himself. He vaguely feels Wilbur cradle him closer and he coughs, trying to stay awake. 

He almost regrets his decision,  _ almost _ . Tommy wants to laugh, it's stupid of him to regret something just because of the pain he'll face. That's so  _ stupid _ , gods. 

Tommy feels like he's being lifted and on instinct, he curls his wings on himself. It's horrible, so horrible. He feels cold and yet, so warm. He feels like he's being boiled from the inside and his flesh being seared alive. 

Once he locks a secret, he can't unlock it. He has to wait until the time is reached like everyone else. He knew what the consequences were, he's seen it personally and dammit, does it feel horrible. 

He registers Wilbur whispering to him and relief for a moment as they pass through the portal before completely blacking out, letting the pain take over. 

+

Wilbur sat by the edge of the bed as Tommy writhe in pain. He silently turns down the heat in the room with a wave of his hand, a worried expression on his face. 

Clementine floats by the bed, drifting back and forth, as if he were pacing the room. "Is there really nothing we can do? Like nothing at all?" 

Wilbur removes his palm from Tommy's forehead and faces his (real) brother. "It's his own vow that he made and broke, it's far worse for him. He can't reveal secrets after they're locked. That's as far as his powers go for now." 

Clementine stops his pace and slouches. Wilbur smiles gently and pats the soul's head, unable to offer any words of comfort. He too wished he could reverse what Tommy did, but it wasn't in his field. The most he could do is soothe the pain to the best of his capabilities. 

"He'll be fine. He’s a god after all," Wilbur finally says. Clementine nods at his statement. 

They stay in awkward silence as they watch over Tommy’s unconscious self. Wilbur sighs, leaning back against the chair. This was… A rather weird turn of events. At some point in Tommy’s life (well, not really, it’s Clementine’s life), they were brothers. Even if they aren’t really biologically related, Tommy’s soul, Clementine, was his brother. 

Wilbur places his hand on Tommy's nest of a hair and starts untangling it's knots. 

He remembers seeing Tommy in the throne room, when he just arrived. Wilbur finally had enough time to visit Philza again and coincidentally, Techno was already there, bickering with the god. He did hear that there will be an arrival of a new god from Ranboo, who was jittery the entire day. 

Tommy’s hair was messy, wind-swept. The kid seemed pretty tired when he landed. He was quiet, timid, a big contrast to his personality now. His wings tucked behind his back. His hands clutching onto the strap of the dirty bag that held what seemed to be a few pieces of clothing, food wrapped in cloth and other necessities. 

When Wilbur started talking to him, asking why he was here, he was met with a confused expression and a timid reply of “instinct”. He took the time to explain what they were and he and Techno watched as his eyes widen, a surprised exclamation leaving his mouth. The once timid and quiet kid basically bursted into a ball of excitement. He hovered around Philza, firing questions at the poor god. 

“Calm down, Tommy.” He remembers saying, a smile on his face. 

He remembers him and Techno chuckling at Tommy’s antics. Philza trying his best to answer all the questions being thrown at him before Tommy finally calmed down and landed next to Wilbur. He could still feel the excitement emanating from him and the bright smile that spread across his face when Philza welcomed him. 

He retracts his hand and pulls the blanket over him, patting his shoulder gently. Waving his hand, he summons one of his subjects, silently requesting them to bring food and water to the room. Other than that, he doesn’t leave the room. 

The silence is broken when the door flies open and Ranboo stumbles in, every movement from him screams panic. His gaze move from Wilbur to Tommy, eyes widening as he closes the door behind him. “Is he alright? The pattern on my wrist, it appeared, then melted. It wasn’t supposed to for a century,” he rambles. 

His gaze moves over to Clementine, who hid behind Wilbur. Ranboo’s hands twitch by his side, recognition flashing through his eyes. “I- you’re… I’m sorry,” he stutturs out. “To both of you, I mean. I suppose you know the truth now, I… yeah.”

Clementine peeks out from behind Wilbur. “What do I appear to you as?” He asks. 

Ranboo hums. “You were a orb when I first came in. You’re shifting in between a rabbit and an orb right now.”

Clementine nods timidly, holding onto Wilbur’s sleeve with a hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

Ranboo chuckles nervously as Wilbur smiles. He turns to look at Tommy before looking at Ranboo. “The pain will come and go and he’ll be in bed for a few days, but he’s okay. You were just doing your job, it’s alright. George came in and explained everything after Tommy broke the vow. He knew what would happen.”

Ranboo nods his head slowly in understanding. “That’s good,” he pauses, taking a look at Tommy. His expression relaxes. “Well, I’ll… go. You three can have your time together, I’ll visit later.”

Wilbur nods and Ranboo leaves the room. Clementine stayed for an hour more before taking his leave, thanking Wilbur and giving him a hug which Wilbur returned happily. 

The next few days were a blur between doing his duties (he’s thankful Phil would help Tommy when he wasn’t available) and taking care plus making sure Tommy was alright. He was healing, but rather slowly. It was expected though. Tommy would drift in and out of consciousness. Thankfully, he stayed awake long enough to eat or drink something. His temperature went down and Wilbur didn’t feel like he was touching fire anymore. Tommy did croak out once or twice how he still felt like he was being seared from inside out and Wilbur could only sit by his bed and comfort him. 

Two days into recovery, Wilbur was sitting by his bed once more, strumming his guitar (that he bought on a whim the last time he went to the Overworld). He wanted to play, but he couldn’t particularly think of a tune or a song. He hums, playing random notes with long intervals in between. He repeated the action a few times until the door opened and Wilbur looked up from his guitar. 

“Long time no see, Techno,” he says, beaming. 

Techno nods his head and pulls up a chair next to the bed, taking a seat. “Sorry for not visiting earlier. Things got messy,” Techno sighs, he slouches while removing the boar mask (bone?) he wears and placing it on the bedside table. “How is he?” 

Wilbur shrugs, leaning his guitar against the wall before walking around the bed. He places his hand on Tommy’s forehead. “I think he’ll be up. He doesn’t seem to be in that much pain anymore and I feel like the curse that comes with breaking the vow will end soon.”

Techno hums, eyes scanning the figure laying on the bed with scrutiny. Wilbur wipes the sweat off the side of Tommy’s face with a cloth and Tommy groans. Wilbur stops his actions, eyebrows furrowing with worry as he places the cloth down. 

“Well, he doesn’t look like he’s dying anymore like the last time Phil told me. That’s some good news at least,” Techno mumbles. He stands from his seat and unhooks his cape, placing it by Tommy’s side, next to Wilbur’s coat (Tommy stole it from a store and just handed it to him out of the blue one day, it was comfy). 

Wilbur hums in agreement. Techno stands by the bed for a few moments longer before turning to walk out the room. “Tell your brother to find me once he’s walking again. I’ll go see if Ranboo is around. I’m kinda hungry too,” Techno mumbles while unlocking the door and slipping out, waving goodbye to Wilbur who waves back, a gentle smile resting on his face as he sits down once more and strums his guitar. 

+

_ Gods, I feel like shit. _

Tommy groans as he sits up in his bed. His shirt sticks to his back and he grimaces. How long has he been in bed? He rubs at his wrist, where the pattern melted off, reminded of the situation that happened before hand. 

He winces as he slips out of bed. His legs are numb and his wings feel limp (he always hated that feeling). He feels like he just woke up in the morning, but take that feeling and multiply it by a thousand. That’s exactly how shit he feels. Silently, he changes his clothes with some difficulty. His wings are still asleep, to put it one way, and he flaps them lightly, trying to get them to function. 

Tommy gazes at the blood red cape and dark, soft coat on the bed, silently picking both of those garments. He shrugs the coat on and bundles the cape in his arms, taking a look at the three empty chairs by the edge of his bed. A guitar that doesn’t belong to him leans against the wall and a green-white striped bucket hat rests on the bedside table. He picks up the hat, knowing who exactly it belongs to and unlocks the door, walking out into the cold hallway. 

The lanterns are glowing dimly and he stares at the brightness of the blue flame flickering in it. It’s probably 5 in the morning, based on the way humans track time. He starts dragging himself to nowhere in particular, letting his feet take him where his mind wants to go unconsciously. 

He grumbles as the wind blows a little colder, tugging the coat closer and holding the cape and hat closer to his chest. The temperature in the Underworld is complete wack, and sometimes he really despises, for example, now. 

Unlocking the door that looks vaguely like Wilbur’s room, he peeks his head in before fully stepping inside, quietly closing the door behind him and trying not to cringe at the creak the door makes. He blinks blearily at the bed shoved in the corner of the room before collapsing into it, sighing. He can deal with whatever shit Wilbur will throw at him in the morning, for now, he just wants to head back to sleep. 

Vaguely, he registers the door opening after a few minutes. There’s mumbling and someone walking towards the bed and he forces himself to open his eyes, even for a second before he gives in and buries his face into the pillow. 

“Tommy, go back to bed,” he hears Wilbur mumble, tugging at his shoulder. Tommy groans and shrugs him off, pressing his nose into the cape, smiling at Wilbur grumbling. “I get that you can already walk and shit after that entire ordeal and we’ll talk in the morning, but Tommy having you in your own room would make things easier-” Wilbur starts. 

Tommy interrupts him while stretching his wings, smacking Wilbur on the face gently. He feels the deadpan stare Wilbur gives him. “Fuck off, Wilby. Just sleep somewhere else,” he mumbles. 

“Did you just call me Wilby?” Wilbur asks tiredly. Tommy hears the scraping of the chair being dragged across the floor and he sighs at his mistake. 

“No, I didn’t dickhead.”

He hears Wilbur slumping dejectedly into the chair. “Kicked out of my room by my brother, what the fuck,” he groans. 

Tommy yawns and mumbles a barely audible ‘sure thing’, slowly drifting off to sleep, but not before cracking an eye open just in time to see Wilbur smile, shutting his eyes while leaning against the back of the chair. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, it's probably a little bit confusing, so questions, ask away if you have to. I'll definitely answer.  
> This is my second (or third, man I don't know) writing angst, or a kinda sad fic, and I hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> I have to sleep in like, now. School at 8 AM pog so uh, yes bye, YEEAAHH :D  
> holy crap, I can see the words in front of my eyes.


End file.
